how light carries on, endlessly
by citigirl13
Summary: Even after stars die, their light can still be seen for years afterwards. (Or, how the members of the 100 camp heal themselves). Post-2x16 fic. One-shot.


**A/N: **So this story span wildly out of control. BUT it is a post-2x16 fic, and I think it kinda needs a lot of words. I'm not sure how good it is: I went from loving the fic, and then when I finished it I decided I hated it; and now after editing it I quite like it again; and now I have no idea. Besides, I said I was going to do a kick-ass post-2x16 fic and – well, I did the fic; whether its kick-ass is up to you. So enjoy!

* * *

**DISCLIAMER:**** I do NOT own **_**The 100**_** or any of the characters; I do not own the lyrics/song to **_**Saturn**_**, by Sleeping At Last; and I do not own **_**The Vampire Diaries**_** or any of the characters. **

**(Basically I own nothing)**

* * *

**how light carries on, endlessly**

* * *

_You taught me the courage of stars before you left.  
How light carries on endlessly, even after death.  
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite.  
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist._

Sleeping At Last, _Saturn_

* * *

**prologue**

* * *

She hugs him, and he feels something beginning to break inside. He doesn't want to let her go, can't function, can't think. He wants to grab her and drag her back into camp. He never knew her before the Ark, but now he can't imagine a life without her: arguing with her, talking with her, perhaps even laughing with her, that small smile that creases over her face –

She walks away from him, and he lets her go.

(He has never hated himself more for that decision.)

As for her, she is still trying not to breathe him in. The further away she walks from camp, the stronger his scent is: the smell of earth that belongs to him, his own scent that reminds her of her first night on the ground. She thinks of the way his body enveloped her when they hugged, held her so close – the last time she felt truly safe.

She feels something inside her crumple, like a fracture inside her body. It almost stops her in her tracks, makes it difficult for her to breathe – but she puts one foot in front of the other, continues to put distance between her and the people she loves.

(It's the only way.)

* * *

**I**

* * *

At first, it's her ghosts she sees.

* * *

Everything around her is grey. The sky, the leaves, the grass, the river – it's all lacking in colour and, for her artist's eye, it hurts. But she doesn't question it. She doubts she will ever be able to draw again. The thing inside her that could conjure pictures, that yearned to pick up a pencil and sketch the images in her mind, has gone, and she doesn't think she can bring it back. She thinks of the girl she used to be, up in the sky, imagining what Earth would be like; and she flinches.

* * *

He lurks in the shadows at first, something that she almost doesn't notice. She glances over now and again, but sometimes she thinks that it's a Grounder, and wonders whether their keeping peace with their people. Surely Bellamy would –

She doesn't quite stop herself in time. Thinking of him – of them – is second-nature to her.

She realises it's him when she wakes up one night. For obvious reasons she doesn't stay in the drop ship – she knows it would be the first place that they would look for her. Besides, the drop ship... In some ways it's home to her. If she goes there, she doesn't think she would be able to leave. So she's in a tiny cave, barely able to lie completely flat, when she eventually sees him.

He's right in front of her.

Her heart leaps, and she knows that she's losing it when she thinks he's real. She killed him herself, had his blood under her fingernails for days. She thought she had got rid of him.

His smile mocks her.

* * *

This is what she deserves. After what she's done, she has no right to be in camp with the others: no right to enjoy an evening drink, no right to feel pride at the society that has been created, no right to be loved. She has killed more people than she can even count. She can't just get away with that. There has to be a punishment for that, a penalty; a sentence. None of her people would put her in prison, so she has to make one of her own.

(Her prison is in her mind. The constant memory of all the things she's done, of all the lives she's taken – that's her punishment.)

* * *

She wanders into a Grounder village one day. She's tired, lacking in sleep, and doesn't realise where she's going until she's a quarter of the way through. But she doesn't stop. A part of her is curious to see what they will do.

At first silence falls, like she's in the centre of a hurricane. She doesn't look at anyone; her eyes stare straight ahead. Her chin is up. A buzz begins to grow, and she clenches her hands. If they attack her, she is dead.

But they don't.

It's five minutes after she's left the perimeter that she breaks into a run.

(She questions her desire to live.)

(She questions why she deserves to.)

* * *

She is unsurprised when Lexa turns up. She skinned a rabbit and is cooking it, turning it over to make sure it's okay to eat, though in the end she'll throw most of it away. She feels, rather than sees Lexa approach. The girl sits down next to her. Clarke makes a point of scooting a few inches away.

"Hello Clarke."

She doesn't reply.

"I'm impressed. I never expected you to live, let alone get your people out too."

_Only thirty-nine_, Clarke wants to say. The rest of them died there. Not to mention the people that she killed: the people that helped her friends; the children who had no idea what was going on, the mothers and fathers who would have gladly taken their place.

"Why did you decide not to stay with your people?"

_Because there are some things you can't erase. _

"I know you don't agree with my decisions Clarke. But I made the choice to save my people."

"You left my people to be tortured and killed – including me. I killed Finn-" Her voice breaks a little, and she can't bear to lose it, not in front of Lexa, who does not deserve any piece of her. She turns away, sees Finn move from behind the trees. Turns back to Lexa. "I killed him for our alliance. You made his death worthless. And he was _anything_ but worthless."

Lexa just looks at her, and Clarke wants to scream. She wants her to show some emotion, not to hide behind her facade of a commander.

"Things change in battle Clarke," she finally says. "I would have been a bad leader if I hadn't gotten my people out. I would have risked the many to save your people. I could not have done that."

Deep down, Clarke knows this. Clarke knows that Lexa did what she had to. She likes to think that she, Clarke Griffin, would never do something like that; that she would _care_. But then, she never thought she would kill innocent people; and she's killed plenty of them.

She doesn't know what she would do if she had been put in Lexa's position.

The girl stands. "I'm going to Polis in a few days," she murmurs. Her eyes are fixed on Clarke's face. "Would you care to join me? You can stand for your people."

If she goes with Lexa, she knows that she will end up in her bed. And it could possibly sooth something inside her, sooth the beast that is running wild. But she remembers Octavia's words, and knows the reality: Lexa is bad for her. The beast inside of her has only been encouraged by Lexa; the beast that doesn't look after everyone, that doesn't protect all of the people. That chooses who lives and dies, that doesn't realise that _every_ life matters.

"Goodbye Lexa," she says. She doesn't even look at her.

She feels the nod rather than sees it. "Goodbye Clarke," she says, and somehow she knows that this will be the last time they meet.

(When she hears of Lexa's death, years later, she mourns her, the girl that never put love first. She hopes that she found happiness. She wishes she had told her that.)

* * *

She mourns.

The kids that came with her to the ground. The people in Mount Weather. The ones that were killed by the missile. Wells. Charlotte. Anya. Atom. Fox. Her father. Finn. There's so many that she can no longer keep count.

"Why are you here?" she grounds out. Finn is sitting opposite her, hands clasped. The drizzle of rain is soaking her, but he's perfectly dry.

"You know why."

Clarke's head jerks. "You're talking now?"

He gives a nod, once. "Seems like you need some advice."

Her teeth grit together. "What I need is for you to leave me alone."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're on the wrong path Clarke. Your place is with our people."

"Bellamy will look after them."

"You know who I think is the better leader." His smile twists, more like a grimace. "Though Bellamy's good. I have to admit it. He has something that I never had."

"Finn-"

"Some of us can survive on Earth. Some can't. I may have a pure heart, but that's not enough here. Only people like Bellamy can lead us. Only people like you."

"I killed-"

"And you saved people too."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation." She stands, crunches the damp embers under her foot. She looks at him and says the words that will make him walk away. "Love is weakness."

He doesn't move an inch. His eyes resemble a basset hound as he looks at her. "I'm sorry that's what I taught you."

She runs.

* * *

**II**

* * *

He finds it hard to breathe sometimes. Sometimes in the middle of the night he wakes up, coughing and gasping for air. It's the only time that he's glad Octavia doesn't share his room (she almost brought up her lungs she snorted so hard, and then pointed out that no one else was likely to share with Lincoln. And well, his sister's proven that she can look after herself) because she would ask him what's wrong.

He doesn't want the answer. And even if he acknowledged it, even to himself, it's far too complicated to explain.

* * *

They hold a memorial for everyone they've lost. Even though it's growing cooler, there are still flowers, and they gather as many as they can find. It's not just for the people at Mount Weather, but the countless they lost on the Ark, the members of the 100 that were killed in the early days. Abby gives a speech about the people that gave their lives so that others could live, but Bellamy finds himself fidgeting. He sees Octavia's mouth curling into a frown, and Raven glances over at him, raising her eyebrows. It feels a lot like Ark propaganda to him.

People file back into the boundary. Bellamy pauses when he sees Jasper standing by a bunch of white flowers. Abby make specific mention of Maya, at the kids' insistence.

He looks to Monty, who shrugs, but he approaches. "How you doing?" he murmurs, not daring to meet the boy's eyes. He doesn't reply. "I'm sorry about Maya Jasper. She was a good person-"

"Don't." Bellamy glances up. Jasper's voice is fierce; he's never heard the boy sound like that. "You have no right to talk about her. If you hadn't pulled that lever she would still be alive."

His words are like shards of glass, and one sinks right into his heart. He closes his eyes. "I know," he murmurs. "And I have to live with that."

He doesn't see the fist flying towards him before it lands right on his cheek. He's on the floor, his hand pressing against the already forming bruise. He stares up at Jasper, who has tears running down his face.

"You made that decision," Jasper whispers. He wipes his face with his sleeve. "And you may have to live with that, but so do I." He steps over Bellamy and strides into the camp. He goes past Monty; his best friend looks at him but doesn't say anything.

Bellamy stands up, spitting on the earth. Blood comes out.

It's fitting.

* * *

People look to him now. Not just the remainders of the 100, but people who came down from the Ark. Kane doesn't speak to him like a child. Hunters ask his advice about food. He is quizzed about what weapons the Grounders use.

Finally he is summoned to the council. When they first send for him he's with Wick and Raven, and he looks to the girl ("Genius" Raven says). "Why are they sending for me?" he demands. "I haven't done anything!"

"Are you serious?" When his face doesn't change, she looks to Wick, and the two of them burst out laughing.

The laughter feels raw on his ears. But it's like water after you haven't showered in a long time, and despite himself, he's grinning. "What?"

"Dude, you're so dense." Wick shakes his head. "Just go already."

When Bellamy gets there, he sees Abby sitting at the head of the council. He gives her a nod. The two of them don't agree with a lot of things. She doesn't believe that he couldn't have stopped Clarke from leaving. Kane though, he actually gives a little smile as Bellamy approaches. "There is an available seat on the council, with Councillor Jaha gone," he informs him. "We would like to offer you the position."

He only just manages to stop his mouth from falling open. "Are you serious?" There is a muttering at the table, and someone lets out a laugh. "I thought you had to be voted to become a member of the council."

"In most cases," Abby replies. Her tone is like steel. "But we've discussed it, and it's been agreed that the things you've done for our people have earned you a place at this table."

A guard. A janitor. And now a member of the council. He almost wants to laugh at how things have changed. "I'd rather become a member of the guard, if that's alright with you lot."

There are glances between the council members. "You don't want to be a member of the council?" Kane's voice has risen, staring at the boy.

"Do me a favour and save the seat." He looks right at Abby. "I know there's someone else better for the job than me." Abby sits up a little, and for the first time he sees a flicker of something other than hatred.

* * *

"You turned it _down?_" Miller is staring at him like he's lost it.

Bellamy feels a grin form on his face. "Yeah, I did."

"So," Wick says after a pause. "Who voted for Bellamy to be the first one to go insane?" He's offended when he sees the amount of hands lifting. He's in Raven and Wick's room, with Miller, Monty, Octavia and Lincoln, a little council of their own.

(Jasper doesn't turn up. But Bellamy has faith. Or at least, that's what he tells himself.)

"Look," he says, facing them all. "I don't need a place in the council. We are the people that rule this place, and the adults know it."

From her position next to Lincoln, Octavia lifts her eyebrows. "Are you going rogue Bell?" she asks. A smile curves on her face. "Took you long enough."

"We're setting off on our own?" Miller sits up, rubbing his hands. "Excellent. I mean, I love my dad and all, but – we're not kids anymore. And it's not like we're just going to disappear." Others murmur in agreement.

"No." Bellamy's tone makes everyone glance at him. "Well, not yet. We can't abandon the members of the Ark until they can look after themselves. But I'm not the type of person that can be on the council. I'm better at being a guard." He makes a point to look at each and every one of them before he starts speaking again. "Let's just keep doing what we're doing. In the meantime, let's sound the others out and see how they would feel about us starting a new camp on our own."

"At the drop ship?"

Bellamy looks at Raven. "You would be cool with that?"

"Yeah. I know it has a lot of bad memories, but..." She glances down at her legs, and Bellamy sees Wick reach for her hand. She finally has the strength to lift up her head. "It was home," she finally says. "We survived there."

He sees Miller nod, and Monty meets his gaze. Neither of them says what they're thinking.

* * *

There's a shift in the structure: with the Mountain Men gone, the Reapers disappear too. The "Sky People" as they have been named stay out of it, but one day a hunting party returns, breathless with the tale of a battle being fought by two clans.

"What's going on?" Wick asks at one of their meetings. It's nearing midnight, but none of them are the least bit tired after hearing the news.

"The alliance is falling apart," Lincoln says. "The clans don't have a common enemy anymore, and some are mad at Lexa for calling the troops away."

"But Lexa – I mean, I don't agree with why she did it, but she saved her people," Raven points out. She is leaning on the table, her body splayed out. Wick is underneath her, hand on her stomach. She's looking better, Raven. Happier. Bellamy's glad. There was a point, back when Finn died, that he thought she would never recover. "Why would her people be mad at her?"

"The Grounders aren't weaklings," Octavia replies. "They fight. And Lexa ordered them to leave the battle. It injured their pride." Lincoln glances at her, a slight smile on his face.

"Is this good for us?"

Lincoln looks at Bellamy. "They're not fighting us," he says. "For now, we take it one day at a time."

It's a week later when Lincoln returns with Octavia, after going on a scouting mission. They're late, and Bellamy's almost going out of his mind with worry. "Where've you been?" he barks when they walk through the gate.

"Chill Bell," Octavia says, but she pulls him into a hug. "We have news." Under Abby's gaze, she tugs Bellamy back to their room. It takes a few minutes to assemble the members of the "council".

"What's up?" Monty asks, perching on a chair.

Lincoln remains standing. "We were approached by a member of the River clan. They are seeking an alliance with us."

"And alliance?" Bellamy frowns. "Why?"

"The girl we talked to – she said she knew you."

He tries not to recoil; he knows Octavia will misinterpret it. "I – she can't have. Who was she?"

"She said her name was Echo. She was in Mount Weather."

He remembers her suddenly, the girl in the cages that spat at him. "Oh," he answers, unsure what else to say. "And she wants an alliance?"

"It would be a good idea," Lincoln says. He feels Octavia's eyes on him. "Things are uncertain now. Not being linked with another clan makes us weak. It might make another clan think twice before trying to attack."

"Okay," Bellamy says, letting out a breath. "We should try it. Right?" He asks the entire room, because – well, he knows people respect him for what happened at Mount Weather, but these people respected him _before_ all of that.

"It's worth a try," Miller says. Monty nods. Raven gives a sigh and stands, going to her mechanic table, a sure sign she's deep in thought.

It's another week before he finally meets with Echo. Lincoln suggests they meet in neutral territory, and so they find a place in the forest. He, Lincoln and Octavia are shifting on their feet when they ride in. Bellamy watches her leap off the horse. She meets Bellamy's eyes and he knows; he does this alone.

They approach in the middle. "You're looking better," he says, for lack of anything else. She's standing tall, donned in fur-lined cloth, and her skin glows here. He remembers how she looked in Mount Weather, skin ashen, hair matted. But he also remembers her strength, her commands to the other Grounders.

"I am better." She smiles, and he looks at her again. She looks different (better) when she smiles. "Thanks to you. If you hadn't have been there, I would have died. I wanted to thank you."

"You would have done the same."

"But I didn't." She frowns then, her straight back sinking a little. "I ran. I just wanted to let you know that I didn't know what was going to happen. If I had known, I would have stayed."

"It's okay. It all worked out in the end," he says, and tries not to think about the kids that never left the mountain (he thinks about them in his nightmares enough).

"In thanks, I wanted to offer you an alliance with our clan. Things are changing now. Lexa is losing power, and the alliance between the twelve clans is breaking. After what your people pulled off, I believe an alliance with you would be welcomed by my people."

Her words catch him. "Your people?"

She lifts her chin a little (he sees golden hair and a downturned mouth, brows furrowed and an argument running through her head). "I'm the leader of the River clan." The corner of her mouth lifts. "It'll be nice working with you."

And they do work together. They actually get on well. A few months ago he would never have said he could have allied with a Grounder. But then, Lincoln happened, and the alliance happened, and – well, Echo's good. She's strong and has a no-nonsense attitude. The two – the two _clans_ meet, and everything goes well. He and Echo discuss collective hunting tribes, other clans that might be open to alliances, ones that they want to avoid. He actually begins to enjoy himself.

(And even though things go well, even though they are able to work together, the wheel doesn't turn smooth. There is a chink, a hole in wood, and every now and then it jerks him awake, reminds him - )

One night – it's so late it's tomorrow – Bellamy is about to fall onto his bed when Echo enters. He is shirtless, and watches as she lifts her own off top off.

"What're you doing?"

"Shocked, Bellamy? I never expected you to be a virgin." She grins, and it's smaller and shyer than the one he's used to from her. She steps forward and places her hands over his chest, circling it. "I want to offer you an alliance."

"We're already allied." He hates the way his voice sounds breathless, and he winces; he _does_ sound like a virgin.

"To solidify it. To join our two tribes as one forever." Her hand lowers, and he's itching to lift it back up. Yeah, it's been a while – been a long time since he actually had sex with anyone. And it's not like he hasn't been busy, y'know, going to war or anything.

Echo's attractive. She's strong and takes no shit from anyone. And, "You could be the leader of both these tribes. You could be the king."

But something holds him back (_someone_, whispers a voice).

(_"I think the princess is dead. And I know the King's about to die..."_

Because she could be dead. And if he does this, he – _they_ – will be.)

"No." His voice is low and she doesn't pause, tracing patterns on his body, her teeth nipping on his shoulder. He places his hands on her body, shoving her away. "No."

She blinks, shifting from one foot to the other. "What did you say?"

"I – I can't do this. And it's not you. It's – it's another girl."

(He doesn't know why he's telling her this. He has never even admitted it to himself, this thing that was between them, something else added in with the glances and the touches and the words, and all the things they _didn't_ say.)

"Another girl?" Echo's eyes narrow, and he suddenly sees the warrior in her. "Who?"

"She – it doesn't matter, she's gone now."

"But you and her were together?"

"No – no, we weren't." (_"Together," he says, and puts his hand on hers_.) "But we were friends, and we were the leaders of our clan when they first sent us down. She and I fought against the Mount Men, and we – it's strange, because we were never really friends before." He's never thought of himself as tongue-tied, but he can barely get words out. "There was just this...this thing between us – a feeling. I thought after she left it would go away, but if anything – it's gotten worse, this – and I can't let it go."

"Let me get this straight." She puts her hands on her hips, her eyes slits. "You're saying no to marrying me, to becoming the leader of both our tribes – to having power like you've never had before – because you have some vague feeling about a girl who is no longer here?"

He pulls his shirt over his body, more awake than he's felt in a long time. "Damn straight."

* * *

**III**

* * *

It takes a long time, but she makes it up the mountain in the end.

She enters the building, and it's like –

Clarke gags, because the stink is overwhelming. She's never had to face this level of decaying bodies before – on the Ark they shot them out into space, and when the members of the 100 died they buried them – and the stench makes her want to be sick. She puts a hand against the wall, and before she knows what's she's doing, she runs back through the door, to the clean air.

Once out, she leans back. _Weakling_, she whispers to herself. She had been planning to bury them, to redeem herself a little. But she cannot be redeemed. That blood on her hands will never be washed clean.

"You bitch."

Clarke starts, but she's already pushed back against the wall. A hand is on her throat. Emerson. His face is clenched, red, and he shoves her back so hard she cannot breathe. "What are you doing here? Gloating?" He spits in her face. "You have no respect."

Even if she could explain, he wouldn't believe her. And though her hands are on his, she doesn't dig her nails in. And when she feels him slit something across her stomach, enough to make her cry out with all the breath she has left, she doesn't fight harder. She has no right to fight.

Her vision is fading, and she is letting it, when she hears a cry. The pressure has gone from her throat and her legs give out from underneath her. She doesn't have time to be shocked though, because in front of her Emerson and Bellamy are fighting.

Bellamy is pinned against the ground, trying to reach for his gun. Emerson is on him, his own gun pinned against Bellamy's throat.

"Let go of him!" Clarke charges, knocking Emerson sideways. She hears Bellamy grunt when he can finally breathe again; Emerson punches her backwards, catching her face. She lands hard, tries to crawl back. Emerson stands, but Bellamy is up now, and without even communicating they both charge at him. On the ground it's hard to know what's happening – her stomach feels like it's about to tear in two – but Emerson is going for her, not Bellamy, but that's good –

And then he falls. Blood chokes out from his lips and his head lolls back. She looks down at the cut in his throat, to the knife glinting from her hand.

She did this.

She crumbles. "Clarke." Bellamy's voice is like a breath, and he is beside her. His hand goes to her stomach, face dark at the sight of the blood.

She grabs his wrist, feeling his pulse beat out from beneath her. He has so much life in him, so much yet to do. His pulse has a stronger will to live than she does in her whole body. "I'm glad I got to see you," she whispers.

His grip tightens on her. "No way. You're not doing this. You're not saying goodbye, not like this."

"It's okay Bellamy." She feels tears in her eyes, and she's mad, because they shouldn't be there. "It's good. It's what I deserve."

She's never seen him get mad before, not like this; not desperate to furious in under ten seconds. His hands are like vices on her arms, and it sounds like he's swallowed gravel. "I don't fucking _care_ what you do and don't deserve. You're not dying Clarke. Not here, not now, not like this."

She doesn't say anything. She just closes her eyes.

(But she keeps hold of him.)

* * *

He's not a medic, but he patches her up as best he can. It takes forever until he gets her back to camp, and the second he enters all hell breaks loose. They're all there – Raven and Octavia and Lincoln and Monty and Miller and Harper, and Wick's in the background and even Jasper steps forward, face white and mouth open – and Abby pushes past them all, ordering Bellamy in the medbay.

He's forced to wait outside with the others while they operate. Hearing Clarke scream is almost too much for him to bear and he paces, reaches up and almost pulls his hair out. He's unaware of the worried expression from the others until Octavia puts a hand on his arm. She doesn't say anything, doesn't tell him to calm down, just squeezes his arm. It helps a little.

A few hours later Abby comes out. "She's okay," she says, and the entire group exhales. "She'll be sore for a while and she needs rest, but she'll live."

Before she's even finished talking Bellamy's stepped forward. Abby holds out an arm. "She needs to sleep-"

"I'm not leaving her."

"I understand that you're concerned, and I thank you for bringing her back-"

He shakes her off. "I'm staying with her. And I will destroy you if you get in my way."

His words are quiet but Abby steps back. She loosens her grip and he takes advantage, stepping into the medbay. Clarke's lying on the bed, eyes closed, but she doesn't look relaxed. There's a frown on her face, like she's thinking hard. He sits down beside her and takes hold of her hand. It's cool, and he brings it to his mouth, as if to assure himself that she's still there.

No matter what happens that night, he doesn't move.

* * *

She dreams.

She dreams that she's back on the Ark. She's sitting in her bedroom, listening to Wells go on about his father, listening to her father and mother talking – arguing. Opens her eyes. Silence. All she sees are lights, and she closes them again. She doesn't want to see.

She dreams that she's with Finn. They're in the bunker, and she's running his hand down her smooth back. She's smiling, thinking, _this is it, this is love, this is what _wasn't_ with Wells_. But when she rolls over its dark, except for the body lying on the ground, blood from his head, so needless, so worthless, and when she turns back it's ghost Finn, it's –

She opens her eyes. Her mother's here, speaking to her. But it's like a switch has been flicked, and all she hears is silence. Maybe she's gone deaf. It's too tiring to care.

She dreams that she's fighting a war. The dead lie at her feet, hundreds of thousands, faces that she recognises – there's Raven and Octavia and Miller and Jasper and Monty and her mom and Kane and Lincoln and Bellamy –

She cries when she wakes up.

"Clarke." Bellamy is beside her. She can barely lift her head, and he puts a hand just above it. "It's okay, you're safe."

She shakes her head. "You should have let me die."

She sees Bellamy's face clench, but then her mom's there. "Clarke, don't say that."

"You were right. I will never get my hands clean again."

She sees Bellamy's eyes turn on her mother before Abby bends forward. "I was wrong," she whispers. "I meant what I said before. No one's good, no one's bad. We just survive."

"Maybe we shouldn't." She sees their faces, the pain at her words, before she lets her eyes close again. "Maybe we should just die."

* * *

Abby stands at the doors, a face of steel. Bellamy can hear her outside, arguing. "I've already let Bellamy in. My daughter's suffering right now. She needs time-"

But they're not kids anymore. There's a shuffle and they all come in. He turns his head and sees Raven standing with Abby, murmuring; Monty by the doorway with Lincoln; but it's Octavia who stands tall, staring right at Bellamy.

"We'll heal her," she says, and something in Bellamy's chest lifts.

(That's when he remembers:

His sister is the girl that was hidden under the floor for most of her life, now a warrior that anyone would fear.

Raven is the youngest mechanic in God knows how long, who built a bomb that blew up a bridge – a bridge that survived a nuclear war – and pretty much kicks ass.

Monty and Jasper were two geeky, goofy kids that no one took seriously; and Monty set up the final weapon used against the Mountain Men, while Jasper proved himself to be a leader.

And he's the boy who was a guard, then a janitor, then a leader; a boy that snuck into enemy territory and survived despite everything.

They are the 100; they are the kids that were meant to die. They survived Earth. They can do anything.)

* * *

They don't leave.

Octavia's first. She sits on the bed and doesn't speak for a while. Finally she lifts her head and looks at Clarke. "I'm sorry."

"_You're _sorry."

"Yeah." Her fingers play with the blanket. "I shouldn't have gotten mad at you like that."

"No – you were right Octavia. I let all those people die – I could have saved them-"

"You didn't fire that missile Clarke. Yeah, I was mad at you, but I talked it over with Lincoln and Indra and – they made me see things differently." She lifts her gaze, and for the first time in ages Clarke realises Octavia's face is clean of Grounder paint. She looks like that girl that took the very first step for their people onto the ground, that flung her arms up and screamed because she was so happy. "We needed to do whatever it took to get our people back. I've done things, you've done things – we've all done things we shouldn't." She reaches for her hand, gently squeezes it. Smiles tentatively. "We need you Clarke. We're not letting you go again."

Raven's next. She doesn't say much, except for, "Finn would want you to live Clarke. He didn't just give up his life for the alliance; he did it so you and I and the rest of us would live." And she bends down and presses a kiss on her forehead, making Clarke's eyes go wide. "I forgive you." Her eyes tear up because, even though she and Raven got on okay after Finn's death, she never said that. And something like forgiveness needs to be said aloud. Only then can a person truly let the guilt go.

Monty tells her that he set it up, so he's just as responsible as she is. Lincoln commends on her bravery in that quiet voice of his, tells her that the best leaders are the kind that make sacrifices. Harper's body is too big for the clothes and she seems curled in on herself, like a strong wind could blow her down; but tells Clarke about the nightmares, the scars over her body, how she never expected to survive. "I know you think what you did was wrong," she murmurs, eyes staring aimlessly outwards. "But those people tortured me. They did worse to me what you did to them. At least for them, it was fast." She raises her eyes to Clarke. "I'm not sorry."

And then Abby comes in. She sits with her daughter for hours, talking. Even when Clarke doesn't want to hear it. Abby talks about Jake, about how she wished she could change things. Clarke wants her to stop, because one of the most painful things in the world is talking about her father. She loved him, unlike she loved anyone else. And she didn't just love him, she admired him too – something that doesn't necessarily go hand-in-hand. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself to let the people of the Ark know the danger. He knew he could die, yet he did it anyway. He showed amazing courage, and never faltered, even seconds before he was about to die.

She doesn't want to think about him now. Who knows what he would say to her?

"Your father loved you Clarke." Abby reaches for her hand. "I don't want you to ever doubt that."

"He would hate me." She whispers it, the secret pain buried next to her heart.

Abby clings to her hand. "No Clarke. More than anything, Jake understood people. He would understand that you did what you had to do. And he would be so, so proud of what you have done down here." Abby eyes are filled with tears, and she presses a trembling bottom lip to her daughter's head. "As am I."

One morning when she wakes up, Jasper is there. He doesn't look at her, his entire body facing in the opposite direction.

"Look," he says, even though she's pretty sure he has no idea she's awake. "I know you did what you had to do, okay? I'll never forgive you for what you did to Maya, but I get it. So can you please get better already, because you keep everyone here together."

Clarke closes her eyes. "I'm sorry Jasper. I didn't want Maya to die."

He turns. Silent tears are running down his cheeks. "I didn't either," he whispers. He closes his eyes, wiping them away with his arm. "But she knew how it would end. I was the one that didn't want to believe it. Do you know what she said, right before she died?" Clarke gives the tiniest shake of her head; she's not sure that she wants to know. But she thinks that maybe Jasper needs to talk about it. "'None of us are innocent'. And she was right." His voice goes low, she can barely hear it. "I killed people Clarke. And if I went back in time I would do it again. It was either them or us."

* * *

When Bellamy enters the medbay it is well into the night, but Clarke is still up. The bags under her eyes have grown, and she is pale against the blankets. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Bringing everyone in here, trying to make me feel better – you can't." She puts a hand to her head. "I killed people Bellamy. I let Lexa talk me into it, I followed her, I thought-" Her throat catches and she turns away, as if she can't bear for him to look at her.

He waits for her to gather herself before he speaks. "C'mon."

"Why?"

"Just – c'mon. I want to show you something."

He can see her face grow wary, but she gets up. He is a little surprised; he thought she would put up more of a fight. "You know my mom won't let us get three feet away from camp."

When he winks it feels like he's the boy from before. "Trust me." He takes her hand and tugs her along. He sees her eyes flick down to it, but he turns away before he can properly read her expression. As planned Abby is nowhere to be seen – he owes Kane big time, though by the look on his face, Bellamy thinks that _Kane_ is the one that owes _him_ – and he takes her towards the electric fence. Wick cuts the power when Bellamy radios him, reminding the two of them to be careful.

"Bellamy," he hears Clarke say after he's walked five minutes away. "Can you please just tell me where you're taking me?"

"Jeez princess, would you just chill?" The nickname slips out before he can stop it, and his insides freeze. He hasn't used that name since Finn – damn, why the hell is he so stupid? He can't bring himself to look back at her; he can't see her face again, which is so often filled with pain these days.

"We're here." He stops her in a clearing, just away from the trees. "And would you just listen to me before you point out that we're completely out in the open?" When he looks at her he thinks maybe he sees a spark of something, but it's too dark to be totally certain. "Look up."

She does, and he does too: the sky is filled stars, with diamonds, with flickers of fire hanging against the canvas. "You brought me out here to show me some stars? Wow," she says. "That was worth sneaking out of camp for."

He nudges her, gently. "When I was little and I missed my dad, my mom used to tell me something to cheer me up." Clarke glances at him, her lips pressed together. "She would tell me that when some stars died, the light from them could still be seen from distant planets, even years after that star died.

"I never used to understand that at first, and I would end up being really mad at her. It was only really after she died that I got it. She meant that even though people die, the things that they did for us will still live on: like the way my mom would stroke my hair as I fell asleep, even when I was too old for it; or how my dad would always give me half his rations, even though he worked hard. I still carry their love around with me, their bravery, their words."

"And you still think about that?" He's staring at the sky, so he doesn't see her face. But he's glad she's talking, glad that she's interested. That's good. "Even after everything that's happened?"

"I do. It's what keeps me going." Bellamy faces her now, and – he can't help it – but he reaches out a touches her arm. "Everyone that died – Wells and Charlotte, Atom, Fox, Finn, even Anya – their lives meant something. I know it's hard to get that when so many people have died without any reason, but it's true. As long as we remember them, they'll never truly die."

He sees her eyes fill again, and she bows her head. "What about the people at Mount Weather?" she asks. "Who'll remember them?"

"You think Jasper will ever forget Maya? Do you think I'll ever forget those kids? Do you think Harper will ever be able to forget that crazed doctor? Will you ever forget Dante?" He watches her still, and he knows he's right. "We'll remember them, for the good and the bad."

"I've done terrible things Bellamy." Her voice creaks. "I've hurt so many people."

"So have I, Clarke. You don't have to go through this alone."

"But you never hurt me."

"What? Clarke, you've completely lost me-"

"I sent you into Mount Weather Bellamy – I sent you there to be killed. Anything could have happened to you – I risked you life – Octavia would never have forgiven me-"

"Clarke – it had to be done. It _worked_. For God's sake, you don't have to feel guilty about that. I'm a big boy – I knew what I was walking into." Her face is pinched though, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, and he knows what she needs. "I forgive you, okay? You're forgiven."

In almost an instant she's sobbing. "You can't." She jerks her head to the side, wiping at her eyes. "It's too much to forgive-"

"Well that's too bad. Because I do." He reaches for her face, his hand against her cheek. She pauses and their eyes meet. He knows what she's thinking, because he's always known. And he could do it now. He could kiss her right now and no one would know.

But instead he smiles, and when his lips touch hers, it's on her forehead. "I know what you're planning Clarke. You're either going to let yourself die or sneak out again the next chance you get. But I'm not going to let you run this time."

"Bellamy-" Her voice cracks. She's calmer now though. She's not crying anymore, and she's looking at him.

"You have to face it Clarke. You'll never heal unless you stay."

"I'll never heal anyway Bellamy. I'll never get over what I've done."

"You will, because we're not going to let you go. Not this time." But what he means is, _I'm not going to let you go._

* * *

**IV**

* * *

She doesn't know who leaves the book on her bed one afternoon. She flicks through the pages only to find that they're bare. Beside the book is a box of pencils, of all colours.

The sight of them makes her feel queasy, because she remembers Dante. She killed him, left him to die on the cold floor in a way to get to his son.

She wants to hurl the book away, to snap the pencils in half. But she remembers what Bellamy said about the stars, how their light still carries on through the darkness, even after death.

Her hands are trembling when she begins, and she thinks if she was in surgery she would be sent out the room. But she continues. How she manages to sketch again, she doesn't know; her hand remembers how. She doesn't draw him dead, lying on the floor. Instead she draws him painting, perhaps when he was the happiest. She imagines him with a little, wistful smile on his face.

When she goes to bed that night, she sleeps soundly.

* * *

"Don't you ever feel like moving out of the medbay?"

Clarke glances up from the bed. She's half-asleep and half-way through a meal. He's trying not to coddle her too much, because he knows how that can turn out (example: Octavia Blake). But he would prefer it if he didn't get dark looks from her mother whenever he lies on the bed with her.

"Not yet," she says, and her tone settles the matter. She peers over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

He tries to shift his body in front of her. "Nothing," he says, but he has to fight a smile when she snatches the book out from under him.

She peers at the pencilled writing, and her eyes fly to his face. "You wrote this?"

Now he turns away, feeling his face heat up. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"It was yours."

She shakes her head, her blonde hair cascading down her face; it momentarily dazzles him. "This isn't about me or you. It's about them. And I'm a good drawer, but I'm useless at writing." She pulls out another pencil, turns the page. "Help me," she says, two words he's never heard her say.

She draws, he writes. She draws Fox and Anya, and Bellamy adds what he knows. Others are harder. It takes Clarke many attempts before she can draw Wells. In the end she draws him as a little child, sitting in front of a chest board. Talking to Bellamy about him is even harder.

"Maybe you should write it," he suggests.

She's already shaking her head. "You're the better writer. I want to do him justice." She glances down at the bed, fingering the blanket. "He was a good person," she says finally. Bellamy glances down himself, thinking of what a dick he had been to the boy. "He would have been really good for our group if he had lived. I think he would have been better at talking with the Grounders. He was always so eager to prove himself to his dad, he learnt how to deal with people. He wouldn't have made such a mess of it.

"I wish I could have told him that he didn't need to prove himself; that he was perfect just the way he was. I know he wanted more than friendship, but I never felt that way with him. He was my best friend, and he knew me better than most – even though that made me angry with him. He would have driven me crazy here, because he would have acted like he was the only person that knew me." She shakes her head again. "Such a waste."

But Bellamy notices that she looks better as she talks.

Charlotte is hard, for the both of them. Her death is both their responsibilities, and neither of them can quite let her go. Bellamy writes about how she followed them on the hunt, and how she smiled when he made a joke. The pencil hesitates over the paper. "She would have been good too," he says finally. "I know that you don't believe that she would have made it through all this, but I think she could have done. If we'd just looked out for her a bit more." He thinks of her going to the log, preparing to lift it just because he had asked.

His face must show something because he feels Clarke's hand on his. "Charlotte didn't deserve what happened to her," she murmurs. She nods to the book. "Write that down."

Eventually the others join in too. When Clarke draws Atom, lying asleep in a bunch of flowers, she asks Octavia about him. "Why are you bringing him up?" the youngest Blake asks, her nose scrunched up.

She shows her the book, and sees Octavia's bright eyes soften when she looks at the picture. Clarke hands her the pencil and Octavia presses it against the paper, writing.

After that the others come in too. Clarke draws a picture of Finn, deciding on one of him with long hair by the glowing fungi, the brightness from them making his face glow. But she lets Raven write. At first the girl is mad, and storms off when Clarke mentions it. But that night Raven comes to the medbay, quieter than normal, and she takes up a whole page and a half writing stories about him. She mentions the alliance that Finn sacrificed himself for. "I don't care what Lexa does," she says. "I will never forgive her for making his death worthless."

Clarke strokes the picture of Finn, and doesn't look up, where she knows his ghost is watching. "Finn would have been proud of us," she murmurs. "We kept that alliance together."

"Even Bellamy." Raven cracks a grin. "Who knew he could make an alliance with that River girl work? I would never have believed it."

Clarke smiles, but makes a mental note in the back of her head to ask about that later.

Everyone contributes after that – that is, all of the 100. Some write about their parents that they've lost; others the friends that died in battles. Monty and Wick mention the others that they used to work with, the ones that didn't make it. Bellamy and Octavia add bits about their mother and father, and she sees it join in two of them together.

Finally Jasper comes forward. "Did you write about Maya yet?"

Bellamy and Clarke are bent over the book. "No," Clarke says softly after exchanging a rapid glance with her co-leader. "We haven't done that yet."

Wordlessly Jasper takes the book and disappears into his room for a while. When he comes back out his eyes are red, but he actually smiles when he gives it back. He nods at the two of them as he walks out.

Nothing is skirted over. There's good bits, like the inside jokes that were created and the unity between the kids. But they also mention what they did to Murphy, how he was nearly killed. Clarke doesn't ignore her part in that. They write about what Finn did to those Grounders, the innocents. It's Harper that writes about the torture that they endured in Mount Weather. She sleeps in the medbay with Monty and Clarke, but something is different when she wakes up. "I didn't have any nightmares," she says. "That's the first time since it happened."

"You were right," Clarke murmurs to Bellamy the next night. She is falling asleep on his shoulder, trying to stay awake.

"I usually am, but what was I right about this time?"

"About remembering." She breathes him in, thinks of the hug that she needs to put in the book – the moment she realised she was safe. "It helps."

The next night, Bellamy is falling asleep by his maps in his room when Clarke appears. He jerks awake, remembers Echo and quickly looks away. Clarke is not Echo.

"I was talking to Raven," she says. "She said you were thinking of setting out and making our own camp."

He lifts his head, not answering.

"We can't severe the connection with the adults. We need them."

"I know. But we left the Ark; I don't want to live like that again."

He watches her face; the corners of her mouth lift slightly, and there's movement in her eyes, like she's thinking of a plan. She settles down on Bellamy's bed, and if he closes his eyes they could be back at the drop ship, organising a game plan for hunting tomorrow or the guard duty. "We need to think about this," she begins, and though he stays in his seat, inside Bellamy is flying –

She's back. Clarke's back.

* * *

It's agreed amongst the kids that they need to ensure that the River clan will stay with them if they split into two camps. "You'll need to talk to Echo," Lincoln says to Bellamy late one night. "I can't see why she wouldn't agree to the idea. It changes nothing for her."

"Thanks for stating the obvious," Bellamy says, and Octavia shoves him in the side. He sighs, slouching. They've been discussing the plans for moving camps back to the drop ship for a few weeks now, long into the night. "Okay, okay. I'll visit their camp tomorrow."

"I'll come," Clarke volunteers.

She sees Octavia glance across at Raven. "It's okay," says Bellamy, and there's a hint of quickness to his reply. "Lincoln or Octavia can come with me-"

"I haven't met the River clan leader. It's important I talk to her, right? I'm one of the leaders of our camp, after all." She stands up before anyone else can say anything. "We'll leave bright and early tomorrow, okay?" She goes towards her room, but not before she hears Monty's laugh, and Wick's words: "They're either going to love each other, or they'll scratch each other's eyes out. Bets?"

The River clan is bigger than she thought, something she is uneasy about. There are guards, but the Grounders nod when they see Bellamy – and they look at her. She sees a small child's eyes widen, and he whispers to his mother.

Clarke takes a step closer to Bellamy. "I should have told you," he murmurs, tightness between his eyes.

"Told me what?"

"You're kinda a legend to the Grounders now. After what happened at Mount Weather – well, no one could believe we survived it."

She catches Bellamy's eye, and knows that he doesn't like it either. Folklore tends to forget the pain and sacrifice that comes with the victory.

"Bellamy," one of the Grounders says, acknowledging him with a nod of the head. "Echo is down by the river. She's expecting you."

He's turning to her, but Clarke has already taken a giant step towards the place the Grounder pointed to, and he's the one that's catching up with her. Once they reach the bank of the river she knows, instantly. The girl turns, and there is steel in her gaze. Her eyes flicker over Clarke, and they acknowledge one another.

"Bellamy," she says, not leaving Clarke's gaze. "I take it this is the girl you went looking for?"

"This is Clarke," he says. "Clarke, this is the River clan's leader, Echo."

Clarke gives her a nod. In reply Echo takes a step forward. She feels Bellamy stiffen, but her hand reaches out. She and Echo stare at each other for a moment.

"Now I see," the leader of the River clan finally murmurs.

"See what?"

"Why Bellamy went looking for you." Her voice is so low that she doesn't think even Bellamy, just a few inches away, can hear. Louder, she says, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Clarke of the Sky People. We've heard many stories. Please, eat with us."

* * *

"How was it?" Octavia asks when Bellamy and Clarke arrive back at camp.

"It was fine," says Clarke, a hint of a snap in her voice. She strides towards her rooms without looking back.

"What happened?" Wick asks. "Did they kill each other?" He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Raven slaps him across the head.

"Nothing! They got on really well – they like each other." Bellamy is staring after Clarke, his mouth slightly agape. "I don't understand it."

Wick slaps him on the shoulder. "Women," he says with a knowledge tone. "They don't make any sense." This time he ducks when Raven makes to hit him.

It's about a month later when Bellamy ends up talking to Echo again. Clarke is with them, but she leaves the table for a second to get some air. They've had some wine and it's gone to her head a bit. Her face is flushed as she leaves, and Bellamy wishes he could take a picture of it.

"She's an amazing leader," Echo says when something needs to fill the silence.

"She's strong," Bellamy agrees. "I wouldn't have been able to do half the things we accomplished without her."

"I understand why you went after her. You're twin souls."

"Twin-" Bellamy really wishes he could just have a normal conversation with someone. Whatever happened to talking about the weather?

"It's a legend our people have. They say that sometimes a soul splits in half, and goes into two different people. And from the moment they are born, they begin searching for the other half." She gives him a half-smile. "You and Clarke think exactly like. We both know you wouldn't be able to work without one another."

* * *

Clarke's face is calm as the members of the council – her mother and Kane in particular – stare at her.

"You want to leave?" Kane glances between Clarke and Bellamy, who is standing behind her. "I don't understand."

"It's nothing you've done," says Bellamy quickly. "But we've been used to doing our own thing. We need to set off on our own-"

"_Need?"_ Abby's eyes are sharp, and she stands. "You don't_ need _to do anything. We've created a camp _here_. You were only on your own because you were the first to be sent down here-"

"Yes, we were sent down here. You sent _children_ down here. And you don't find it a bit hypocritical that you were willing to use us as test subjects, and now that we've assessed the land for you, now that we've done all the hard work, you've decided that we're just children?"

Clarke reaches for Bellamy's hand, looks to her mother. "Mom, we've talked it over with the remaining members of the 100 camp. We're not making anyone come with us. But there are many of them that want to start over on our own."

"Where would you go?" Kane's hand touches Abby's arm, just like Clarke reached for Bellamy.

"To the drop ship," Clarke says softly. Her eyes move back to her mother. "It's only an hour's walk from here, so we wouldn't be very far. And we want to work with you. We wouldn't be another clan; we'd just be a camp that is split in two." She maintains gaze with her mother. "We're not children anymore."

"No."

"Abby, if this is what they want-"

"I said _no_. End of discussion." She pushes through the doors, everyone's eyes following her.

Clarke is the only one brave enough to go after her. She finds her mother in the medbay, going over supplies. "Mom-"

"No Clarke. I've already told you."

"You can't stop us. What are you going to do, keep us in camp forever?"

"If I have to." Abby swings round, upending the contents of the table. She doesn't even notice. "I just got you back Clarke."

"I know-"

"And you've not been yourself-"

"I know. But I know that I can't run away now." She lifts her eyes, meets her mother's face. "I need to protect our people. I need to make sure that not only do we survive, but that we have the right to." She steps forward, and when Abby doesn't move away and wraps her mother into a hug. "This is what I'm meant to do. It's what I want to do. I think us kids, we belong there at the drop ship. We need to remember who we were before we came to the ground." She had only been saying that to convince her mother, but once the words leave her mouth she realises they're true. They're just kids, and they need to heal.

She feels her mother's arm come round her shoulders. "It's not because you're still mad at me?" she whispers. "For what happened with your father?"

Clarke's chin digs into her mother's shoulder. "We all make mistakes. The only way to redeem ourselves is to learn from them."

* * *

**epilogue**

* * *

It's another month before they finally set up their own camp. It's taken them a while to set up tents, and even before they fully settle at their old camp, they have already begun laying the foundations for houses.

It's a small camp – only about sixty people come with them. All the kids from the original camp come, of course, and then there are other people: like Lincoln who is now one of them, Nyko who comes over from the Woods clan, disagreeing with Lexa's decision because they couldn't heal the Reapers without the Sky People's help, and Mel, who has grown close to the 100, to people like Monroe. Farewells are tearful, but Clarke promises that they'll visit, and with the alliance with the River clan they are unlikely to be attacked.

"May we meet again," Abby says, arms wrapped tight round her daughter.

"I promise we will." She breaks away, and sees Abby speak a few words to Bellamy. He nods, back straight, and turns towards Clarke.

It's hard when they first return to camp for good. They close the door to the wall when everyone's made it in, and for a moment or two there is quiet, old memories filling their minds, good and bad.

Bellamy and Clarke stand beside one another at the mouth of the drop ship. He glances over at her, and she feels a smile forming at her lips. They're right back where they started, and she couldn't be happier.

She grabs Bellamy's hand and lifts it into the air. "I formally name this camp, Camp 100!"

A moment, then cheers fill the air, growing louder and louder. She grins at Bellamy, who is grinning in return. They look down at their people, a mixture of Grounders and Sky People: all warriors, all survivors.

"We can do this," she says, and finally something comes back to life in her chest. Hope maybe, just a spark of it.

"We can do this," he repeats, and looks into the face of the girl he loves. "Together."

Before, that word would have made her freeze. But he watches her skin brighten, her hair glow. "Together."

And it's only assured that night, surrounded by the fire: where Jasper and Monty are laughing about something, the first time in a long while; where Wick and Raven are holding onto each other, staring fondly into each other's eyes; Octavia listening to a story Lincoln and Nyko are telling. Clarke leans against Bellamy's shoulder.

"Some people say you're my twin soul, y'know."

She doesn't look up. "Took them long enough to realise."

She feels his grip against her increase; and she smiles into his shoulder.

(Finn is in the shadows, watching them. Clarke looks right through him now, but that's okay. She's found her place in the world. His people are where they belong, and they have peace.

And when she finally kisses Bellamy, in front of the fire two weeks after their return, he smiles. Now both of them have moved on, and it's time for him to do the same. He turns and walks away from the Earth, from this world, into the blinding light of the new one.

He's not afraid.)

(The book is found buried in a National Park, and it makes the news all over the world. Historians and archaeologists explode over it, gabbling about the information it gives them. There are so few primary sources that fully tell the story of the return of civilisation to Earth, and it is examined by historians in awe.

"Does it belong to the 100 camp?" Mandy, an intern, bends down over it, trying to read the writing. "We're sure?"

Dr. Porter nods. In his fifties, he has spent most of his life researching the story of the 100, and can't believe he's actually looking at something that they wrote in. "Have you looked in the back?" he asks, his voice trembling in emotion a little. "It mentions the leaders."

"Bellamy and Clarke?" Another historian, Ian Fleming, whispers their names.

Porter nods. Using the equipment, he carefully turns the pages. They go past the page about Octavia Blake, sister to Bellamy, the greatest female warrior of her time; past her husband Lincoln, who's picture reveals calm eyes and gentle smile; Raven Reyes, the mechanic responsible for actually bringing electricity to their camp, enough even for small things like lamps, beams out from the page, next to a picture of Wick; Monty and Jasper, best friends for life, grin, drawn with their arms round each other. It's on one of the very last pages that they reach Clarke and Bellamy. Standing side by side, there are five whole pages on their list of achievements.

"We're they really together?" Mandy asks. Many university students take up The 100 module because of the love story between Bellamy and Clarke. Most parents tell their children stories of the returned settlers, and girls grow up dreaming about the relationship between the two leaders.

"Many other sources remark upon it." Porter bends closer, eyes scanning the page. "I can't see – yes!" he gasps. Ian and Mandy bend closer, along with the other student Samson, who has barely spoken three words since entering the room. "It has it here, the date of their marriage."

"My God," breathes Ian. He collapses in the chair beside Porter. "This proves it then. We finally have it confirmed that the 100 leaders were married." He lets out a laugh, letting it creep higher. "We've earned our retirement, gents and lady. Finding this book will make sure our names are remembered. They actually were married!" He lets out another bout of hysterical laughter.

"More than that." Porter's voice is barely above a whisper. "They've written the names of the children."

"Children?" Mandy is practically on top of Porter, peering down at the paper.

In a trembling voice, Porter reads, "Children of Bellamy and Clarke Blake: Ella Blake, Jacob Blake, and Rose Blake." He lifts his head up, a smile stretching across his face. "We've got the names of their children."

There is a lot of laughter after that, and cheers. They would open a bottle of champagne if they weren't so worried about spilling it on the precious book. Porter flicks to the last page, which has only a few words written:

_Long after their death, the light of stars still carries through the darkness._)

* * *

_"...I'm at a crossroads right now where, I could go and live my life the way I probably should: be successful and safe and probably very happy. Or I could risk all that for this tiny little glimmer of a feeling inside I just can't shake." _

Elena Gilbert_, __The Vampire Diaries _6x08 "Fade Into You"

* * *

**A/N: **So a few things:

1) This story was not meant to be posted tonight. But my internet has been acting weird, so I thought better post it now while it's up. So I apologise if it's not ironed out. I never beta read (I want to practice editing my own work) so all mistakes are mine.

2) I have wanted to use the song _Saturn_ for a while now, and when I searched the lyrics I realised that the line kinda fit perfectly with the story, which spurred me on to write this. Plus, I love the Elena quote I've also used, because I think that really describes the situation Bellamy was in (in this fic).

3) I actually don't believe that the two camps would split off. I think they'll stay with the adults, because it makes more sense. But for the story's purpose it made more sense for them to leave on their own. Hope people felt it made sense.

4) I've also wanted to write a future-historians thing for a while now, when they read about the 100 and their adventures. That actually made me feel a whole lot better adding that in with the story; I love the idea of the book being found and the world knowing the true story of what happened.

5) The only thing for me that jarred with the S2 finale was Clarke's decision to leave. It didn't seem to fit her character, because I think she would have stayed to make sure that her people were okay, instead of leaving. So I used this fic to try and get inside her head a little bit, and it makes more sense that she decided to leave as a way to punish herself for what she did. I hope that came off.

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**Hours to make. Seconds to comment. **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


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